A Helping Hand
by pjtl4e
Summary: Just my take on how much Brendan was aware of.
1. Chapter 1

_I have always wonder just how much Brendan was aware of, especially towards the end. This is my take on how I think it could have played out, in another universe maybe. :)_

* * *

"I love her you know. So much"

The words out of Peter's mouth weren't a question. Just a statement of the facts. Brendan internally grinned at the admission, something he had suspected for a long time.

"I have no idea who you could be referring to Peter"

Peter attempted a glare at his friend, the whiskey they'd been enjoying all evening was finally taking it's toll. He was fully aware that Brendan never missed a moment of what went on around Ballykissangel. Even not being near an event when it happened did not deter the man from adding two and two, inevitably ending up with four.

"You know full well to _whom_ I am referring Mr Kearney"

The hand holding Peter's whiskey waved perilously close to Brendan's face. He knew now that Peter was in no fit state to drive himself back to the village.

_Looks like another night on my sofa for the Priest. _

"Okay, so lets say that I do know. What are you going to do about it?"

Brendan knew that when sober Peter would never have confided in him, another Priest maybe, but not him. He knew not to take it personally but now his interest was piqued and the rather inebriated parish Priest in front of him seemed more than happy to chat.

"I... have no idea"

Peter deflated visibly as through the alcohol induced haze his brain caught up to the fact that he really didn't have a clue. Brendan saw his friend struggle with himself, saw the pain of wanting someone so much it hurt flash through his eyes.

"What are your choices Peter? We all have to choose our own paths in life, free will and all that. Where's yours going to take you?"

Peter finished what was left in his glass and reached for the bottle to refill it. Brendan reached out quickly and move the bottle out of his reach. Saving his whiskey from the clutches of the clergy.

"I think you've had enough for tonight, don't you?"

"Not if you want this conversation to continue I haven't"

Brendan studied Peter for a moment, seeing nothing but defiance and pain in his eyes. Conceding the point he passed the bottle to Peter's waiting hand, who immediately filled the glass three quarters full and downed half in one swallow.

"Let's start from the beginning Peter. Since when?"

Peter glanced at the man sat opposite him, knowing that with Brendan Kearney honesty was probably the best policy. The man had a way of soliciting the truth from even the most reluctant of students, a mere Parish Priest would be easy picking.

"From the start... I mean... I don't mean the _start_. I was fascinated by her in the beginning. Her passion, her loyalty, even her contempt for the church. She was just so..."

"Assumpta?"

Peter chuckled. Brendan grinned.

"Yeah, I guess that's it. Then she handed me that petition and everything changed. Something moved inside me and it hasn't left since"

"You fell in love with her?"

"Yes... No. At least I didn't think it was, not then. We had _something_. I'm not even sure there's a name for it, it was more than a friendship. So many moments spent dancing around the real issues. Then she went and married Leo "

"Ah. But Leo's gone hasn't he? I thought Niamh said he had packed his bags, that Assumpta told her it was over between them."

"Yes, but did she also tell you that Assumpta has gone to find him? That she convinced Assumpta to try and save the marriage?"

Brendan shook his head. There was a despondency in Peter's voice that Brendan had never heard before from the younger man.

He had seen through the cheerful façade when Assumpta had brought home her new Husband. The glances between the Publican and the Priest on the night of the tournament had not gone unnoticed either and the way he had avoided the pub for a long time after had made it a little more obvious something wasn't right. There had been many tell tale signs that everybody had seen, but nobody would acknowledge. The driving lessons, the petition, the auction and the play that followed, the arguments about religion and morality normally quickly followed by acts of forgiveness from one side or the other. Even the night spent caring for the newborn together that they appeared convinced no one knew about. But as much as he was aware no one else had gone as far with their suspicions as he had.

"Does she know how you feel Peter?"

Peter looked up from his glass, the lack of sleep showing in dark circles around his eyes. A weariness washing over him in almost visible waves as he lent back in the chair, closing his eyes as he answered.

"Maybe. I don't know. I tried once, to tell her. Just before I went away on Sabbatical, in fact that's why I went. We were looking after the site for you, Siobhan and Michael, it was just after you got back, before she drove off. I tried to explain but it all came out wrong. She told me it was fine and to be a Priest, then she left me standing there"

Brendan stood and walked around the sofa, stretching his legs as he made his way to the window and stared out of it while he spoke.

"Maybe it's time to try again then. You know Assumpta. React first, ask questions later. She cares for you Peter, that much must be obvious even to you. And for Assumpta to care enough for it to show means it's certainly something special"

There was silence either Peter was deep in thought or... Brendan turned from the window to find his friend fast asleep, his head uncomfortably forward on his chest. Brendan sighed and ,not for the first time, retrieved the blanket from behind the chair using it to cover the sleeping Priest.

"We'll finish this conversation tomorrow"

Brendan paused long enough to turn out the lights as he left the room knowing that some one just needed to give Peter and Assumpta a push in the right direction and it might as well be him.

* * *

_Okay, so? It's been a while since I've written anything so let me know if it really sucks - nicely though! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

First off thank you for the lovely reviews. It's good to know that there are still some Ballyk fans out there! :)

Second of all I apologise for this chapter. It didn't want to be written the way I wanted it to be. There are parts I am not overly happy with.

Enjoy... Hopefully! :)

* * *

Brendan lent against the door frame. Waiting patiently after knocking, wary that the occupant inside probably felt a lot more delicate than he did.

He had known instinctively he was alone when he had woken. Peter would have left early. He always did after a night on the sofa. Normally hungover, contrite and, at least this time, a little embarrassed if he had remembered any part of the previous night's unfinished conversation.

So here he was, determined to finish _that _conversation.

On his way through the village Brendan had checked in at Henley's, Kathleen hadn't seen the Priest all morning. Neither had Ambrose who was on duty or Niamh who was happily managing the pub, although that came as no surprise. One of the reasons for the late night home drinking sessions at Brendan's was Peter's reluctance to spend time in Fitzgerald's, the grounds behind that more obvious now.

After a quick check inside the Sacristy that only left one place for the hungover curate to hide

"Come on Peter. I know you're in there"

The door slowly opened. A pale face peered out at him. Brendan grinned.

"When will you learn not to try and keep up eh?"

Peter barely grunted in response and moved to one side to allow his friend access to the tiny abode.

"Tea Brendan? Why yes Peter that would be fantastic"

Peter caught the intentional sarcasm and scowled. His response was to point in the general direction of the kitchen, indicating that Brendan should help himself.

Returning with a hot cup for the pair of them Brendan settled on the small sofa, Peter watching him warily from where he has seated himself at the bottom of the stairs.

"So..."

Brendan let the word hang in the air, hopeful that the young Priest would volunteer the rest.

"So?"

He wasn't going to make this easy so Brendan decided against taking the conversation at a leisurely pace.

"Are we going to talk about last night?"

"Ah Brendan. I was drunk. You shouldn't take anything I said too seriously"

The tone was almost believable, the look in Peter's eyes was not.

"Oh come now Peter. You know as well as I do that alcohol is a better way to elicit the truth than Chinese water torture"

Peter had the good grace to look repentant. He took a deep swallow of the cooling liquid in his hands and sighed.

"Yeah. To be honest I had hoped you'd been too drunk to remember"

"Peter, for an Englishman you make an okay Priest. For a Priest you make a lousy alcoholic"

For the first time since he had entered Peter's house Brendan saw a genuine smile on the face of his friend. Brendan smiled back.

"So are we going to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about? I'm a Catholic Priest in love with the local Publican. You really can't get any more _cliché _than that can you?"

There was unquestionable sorrow behind the words, mixed in with pain and regret. Brendan knew that Peter's faith and vocation had him tied up in knots inside, fighting each other for the place in his heart that was now being taken by the currently absent Publican.

"This isn't a storybook Peter. There are no cliché's. If this is what you want, no, what you need to be happy. Then do what you have to do"

"It's not that simple though is it?"

Brenda knew he was right. There were many in the village who would judge both Peter and Assumpta harshly. Assumpta for leading the mild mannered Priest away from his vocation and Peter for allowing himself to be led. But there were also those who would accept and welcome the pair as though it had always been, which in some ways it had.

"And you forget Brendan she's gone to find her _husband_. To save her marriage"

"Peter. She let him go, she let him leave and didn't try to stop him. Niamh had to convince her to go, you said so yourself. Since when have you known Assumpta to let something she really wanted go without a fight?"

"She let me go Brendan. On Sabbatical. She stood there while I told her I was going, to stop myself falling for her any more and she let me go"

Brendan could see the tears building in Peter's eyes, un-shed but threatening as the young Priest attempted to regain control of his emotions.

"You know Assumpta Peter, you know what she thinks of the Church, of _ most_ Priests. But she also knows you, how much you believe in what you do. If she thought she was doing the right thing, she'd have let you go no matter what she felt. If she thought it was what you _wanted"_

"But it wasn't! I wanted her to stop me. To tell me not to go. I loved her then and I couldn't even tell her"

The tears came then, missing the now empty cup in Peter's hands as they fell to the ground. Brendan stood and walked over to his friend, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he took the cup and walked away to give Peter a little privacy.

"Maybe you should Peter. No matter how she feels, she needs to know why you went. She deserves that much."

Brendan made his way into the kitchen with the cups, deciding that more tea was probably appropriate. Lost in his own thoughts he was vaguely aware of the phone ringing and Peter's hushed tones as he answered it. The shrill whistle of the kettle brought him back to the task at hand. He walked back through with the two fresh cups. Peter was still stood at the bureau, phone in hand and looking even more pale than he had done on Brendan's arrival.

"Everything okay?"

Peter stood silent. Concern formed in Brendan's mind as he approached the Curate.

"Peter? You alright?"

"What? No, no I'm not"

Peter sat heavily, almost to the point of collapsing in the small chair next to the desk.

"I've got to go..."

"Go? Go where?"

The concern Brendan was feeling raised up several notches at Peter's words.

"Home. England. I have to go home."

"Peter, you're not making any sense. Why do you have to go back to England. Has Father Mac had you transferred?"

More tears started to fall. This time they flowed more freely, not tears of love, more tears of unadulterated grief.

"My Mother's ill Brendan and she's not going to get better. I have to go home and watch my Mother die. And there's nothing I can do to stop it"

Brendan watched as his Friend fell apart, knowing that nothing he could say would take away the pain. Any chance he had of resolving the conflict between Peter's head and heart would have to wait until he returned. If he returned.


	3. Chapter 3

Okay. so I had a mad hour this evening and came up with this.

Assumpta's turn to deal with Brendan and his allknowingness! (Yes, I am aware that is not a word but I like it!) :)

* * *

Brendan sat in contemplation at the end of the bar, musing on the events of the past few days. Siobhan's scan. His run in with Father MacAnally Brian's misadventure with the outdoor pursuits company. Assumpta's return, single, without Leo in tow. Michael's entry into the pub earlier in the evening bringing with him the revelation of Peter's Mother's passing.

There was still half an hour until closing time but the pub was already pretty much empty apart from Michael, Siobhan and himself, finishing their celebratory drinks bought by Brian as a unspoken thank you. The normality of it pleased him.

He looked down the bar and caught Assumpta looking at the slip of paper Michael had handed her earlier. Peter's telephone number. The expression on her face mournful and yet affectionate as she ran her fingers lightly over the numbers, thinking that no one was watching.

_Time for some intervention._

Brendan waited.

Siobhan and Michael left after the usual goodbyes. Siobhan obviously perplexed at his refusal of a lift home, he used his still half filled pint glass as an easy excuse. Waving as the left, Brendan waited for the door to fully close before he spoke.

"So. Are you going to call him?"

Assumpta's eyes shot up, giving him the iconic glare that he had known since she was a child.

"What? Who? Peter?"

The three words tumbled over each other as she fought stop the obvious blush that started to creep up her neck.

"No. The Pope! Of course Peter. Unless Michael is in the habit of handing you absent Priests phone numbers"

"Ah now Brendan. You know me and the Church. We love a good chat"

Brendan watched as Assumpta's eyes were drawn the the scrap of paper again.

"He needs to know you care Assumpta"

There was that glare again. Brendan struggled to stop the grin that wanted to form.

"Of course I _care_ Brendan. He's my friend. It's just..."

"Complicated?"

Brendan finished the sentence for her, observing the small nod that followed.

"Yeah. Complicated. That's an nice way of putting it. You wouldn't understand Brendan."

"Try me. I probably understand more than you think I do Assumpta. Remember I've known you a long time"

Brendan let the meaning of his words sink in. A dash of understanding flashed across Assumpta's face followed quickly by that blush again. She lent heavily against the bar before turning and reaching for a half full wine bottle behind her.

"Join me?"

Assumpta waved the bottle in his direction as she grabbed a couple of glasses and made her way round to the customers side of the bar. Brendan checked his watch.

"It's after closing Assumpta. Whatever will guard Egan have to say?"

"Let him say whatever he wants"

Brendan watched as Assumpta sat in a stool and poured two hefty measures into the glasses and handed one to him.

"So..."

"So?"

This time Brendan couldn't hide the grin as he remembered the conversation with Peter that had started the same way. Why were these two so determined to be as stubborn as possible.

"What?"

"Nothing. Go on. You were saying something about it being complicated?"

Assumpta looked at him suspiciously, then continued.

"You know how I feel about the Church. I was surprised as everyone else by my friendship with Peter. Who'd have thought it. Me. Friends with the local Priest. But Peter was different, he accepted my views. He never tried to change them"

Brendan kept quiet and watched her fiddle with the stem of the glass, knowing that it was hard for her to open up.

"But something changed. I don't know when and I don't know how. But it did"

Brendan saw his chance to help the conversation along.

"Assumpta? Do you love him?"

The shock at the words being said out loud show clearly on her face but the answer was already forming in her eyes before she whispered it.

"Yes. Yes I do. And it's stupid. I mean this is me. In love with a _Priest _of all people!"

"The heart wants what the heart wants Assumpta"

She looked up at him and genuinely smiled. Brendan returned the smile when a small giggle escaped Assumpta's mouth.

"_Really _Brendan? I declare my love for the local Curate and that's the best you can come out with!"

Brendan shrugged.

"Well I'd have liked to have come up with something a little more profound. But to be honest you admitted it a little quicker than I thought you would and I didn't have time"

"You knew didn't you?"

Assumpta's tone wasn't accusing. More stating the fact. She was more than aware of Brendan's habit of observing and deducing.

"I had an inkling yes. Let's just say it's probably a good thing most people in this village don't pay as much attention as they should"

Assumpta dropped her head and sighed.

"My God. Am I really that obvious?"

"Not to everyone. Only to me. But then I'm not the one who matters, am I?"

"Who? Peter? No he can't know. He can't. I mean he doesn't..."

The words rolled over each other as Assumpta became more agitated.

"He can't? He doesn't what? Love you back? Have you asked him?"

"What! No! Who do you think I am Brendan? _Hi Peter, here's your coffee. By the way I'm in love with you_. The poor guy would have kittens Brendan, and we'd lose another Priest. A damn fine one too!"

The volume rose as Assumpta spoke, edging her way towards angry with every word. Brendan reached out and took hold of her hands in the hope of trying to calm her down, not at all surprised to find the little piece of paper still clenched between her fingers.

"All I'm saying is don't assume anything when you haven't got all the facts"

Assumpta looked up from watching him hold her hands, tears in her eyes that reminded Brendan of Peter trying to keep his emotions under control.

"What are you trying to tell me Brendan?"

There was a softness to Assumpta's tone but underneath there was an obvious edge of suspicion. It was Brendan's turn to sigh, knowing that it would be wrong of him to revel Peter's feelings even of they were for the woman in front of him. Brendan removed his hands from hers, taking Peter's phone number with him. He held it out in front of her. Making a point to direct her attention to it as he spoke.

"Just call him Assumpta. Let him know you're there for him, at least in spirit at the moment"

Brendan handed over the slip of paper and stood, retrieving his jacket from the back of the chair. He watched as conflicting thoughts flitted across Assumpta's face before leaning over and placing a Father kiss on the top of her head.

"Trust me Assumpta"

"I do Brendan. I do. But I'm scared"

"So is he Assumpta. So is he"

Brendan walked out into the chilly night, finding his bicycle where he left it propped up against the side of the pub. He gave one last glance inside and smiled to himself as he saw Assumpta lean fully across the bar and pick up the phone she kept just out of the customer reach.


	4. Chapter 4

This did **_not_** want to be written! It seems to have turned into a bit of a filler chapter, but hey, it's moving the story along a bit! :)

Thank you for the lovely review., I do enjoy reading them and it makes me write faster, honest :)

* * *

Brendan sat in his usual spot at the end of the bar, half listening to Padraig and Siobhan chatting away in his left ear. Assumpta had managed to avoid his questioning glances for a couple of days and had succeeded in preventing any of his attempts at a moment alone where he could have questioned her on her late night phone call to Peter.

He watched as Assumpta unsuccessfully tried to negotiate the closed bar hatch whilst holding several pint glasses stacked precariously in her hands.

"Need help there Assumpta?"

She shot him a look that defied him to repeat himself, a warning blazing from her eyes and shook her head.

"No Brendan. I'm fine"

She placed the glasses on the side of the bar and opened the hatch.

"Ah come on Assumpta, let me give you a hand there"

Before she could shoot him a scathing reply he was out of his seat and cradling the piles of glassware in his hands, ignoring the looks of astonishment that filled Padraig and Siobhan's faces. Assumpta glared at him, more than aware of why he had a sudden urge for housekeeping. Then she simple sighed, shrugged her shoulders and turned into the kitchen.

"Just put them in the sink, and try not to break anything"

She spoke without looking at him, moving towards the pantry, obviously determined to ignore his presence for as long as possible. Brendan kicked the doorstop from beneath the door as he walked past it, not looking back as it slowly closed behind him. He carefully placed the glasses in the deep sink, then turned and lent against it while he watched Assumpta ignore him.

"So... How's Peter?"

Brendan grinned to himself as he saw Assumpta freeze. She had picked up a large tin of _something_, and as she turned towards him Brendan rid himself of the smile, more than aware that in Assumptas hands that tin could be classed as a deadly weapon.

Assumpta walked towards him, tin in hand, and stopped with the table between them.

"Really Brendan?"

Brendan cocked his head to the side and raised his eyebrows in mock indignation.

"He's my friend Assumpta. I'm worried about him. And as he hasn't seen fit to call me, I thought you might know"

Assumpta's eyes narrowed as she stared at him. A slight smile playing on her lips as she spoke.

"Yeah right."

Brendan shrugged. Assumpta shook her head slowly and pulled out a chair to sit on. She was silent for a moment.

"He's heartbroken Brendan. His Mother was everything to him"

_Not everything. _

Brendan was glad his mind hadn't chosen to speak that out loud.

"So you spoke to him?"

"Yeesss"

Assumpta drew out the word, evidently wondering where the conversation was heading.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Assumpta! Don't play stupid. It doesn't suit you"

"We talked Brendan, that's all. And he wanted to tell me about his Mother, I let him"

"Did you tell him?"

A look of pure horror and outrage erupted over Assumpta's face. Her volume rose as she spoke.

"The poor guy has just lost his Mother Brendan!"

Brendan held his hands up in surrender.

"Shhh...best keep your voice down or Padraig and Siobhan will wonder what's going on. I'm sorry, that was tactless of me."

"Yes it was Brendan, and let them wonder. In fact, can someone let me know what's going on first eh?"

There was a flash of a smile and Brendan chuckled lightly.

Assumpta closed her eyes and brought her hands up to cover her face, not crying but obviously trying to regain her composure. Brendan walked over to the table and bent down beside Assumpta, taking her hands in his own and forcing her to look at him.

"Are you going to tell him?"

"What good would that do Brendan? The man's a _Priest_ for heaven's sake, a pretty good one too by all accounts"

There was a sadness to Assumpta's voice, something that Brendan had rarely heard from her. He pulled her up until she was standing in front of him and held her tight, conscious of the fact that Assumpta was not one to allow contact unless she was vulnerable.

"You have to tell him Assumpta. Yes he's a Priest. But he's also a man who cares very deeply about you"

Assumpta pulled away slightly, and looked up at him, her eyes wet from tears she was refusing to let go of. He smiled gently at her as she gave him a questioning glance.

There was a shout from the bar as Padraig announced more customers, Assumpta answered with a yell loud enough to make Brendan wince at being so close.

"Yeah, Yeah. I'm coming"

She turned and face Brendan again with a look of an unspoken apology.

"Looks like I've been summoned"

Assumpta went to leave but stopped short as Brendan grasped her hand.

"You are going to tell him, aren't you?"

Assumpta looked down at his hand and closed her eyes. When she looked back at him Brendan could tell she was fighting some inner demons, yet her answer was as honest as she was able.

"I don't know Brendan, I need to think about it. It's not just about me is it?"

Brendan let go of her hand and shook his head in answer. He watched as she walked towards the door to serve her customers. His question stopped her before she left.

"What _did_ you two talk about Assumpta?"

She turned and looked at him one last time before she left the room. A small smile on her face, not quite counteracting the sadness in her eyes as she answered him.

"Nothing Brendan, nothing...and everything"

With that cryptic answer she left, leaving Brendan stood alone.

_Come home soon Peter_

He thought

_She needs you._

* * *

Okay. So that's 4 chapters down. Time to move on to events throughout The Reckoning and Amongst Friends. Probably means a rewatch, which definitely means I'll be sobbing before the end, because we all know what happens there!


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